Gerrymandering is a slithering political serpent haunting today’s politics. Its twisted specter, when overlaid on a map, is asserted as proof that our representative democracy is failing. However, the image of the beast is not a definitive sign of a failure; rather, it serves as an indictment of the concept of representative democracy—a true contradiction in terms.
Grant me the right to vote, but drown me in a sea of voters holding opinions opposite mine, and my vote serves no purpose—other than supposed justification of the political system itself. The same holds if, instead of foundering, I live in a voting district with one more opponent than I have allies. That singular vote will wash over me and leave me politically voiceless. I drown just the same.
So, from a selfish point of view, gerrymandering, if it succeeds, is in my best interest. Don’t you agree? Just as it is in your best interest if the map elevates your views. It’s either your gerrymandering or mine.
Gerrymandering can take two forms: one in which all opponents are purposefully packed together into a small number of districts; and one in which opponents are thinly spread over all districts to keep them out of the majority. In the end, the goals of both are the same: to limit opponents to the least number of seats possible.
Since gerrymandering is a political process, we see the resulting serpents drawn so as to give the political party in power the greatest number of seats. The justification is that the political party speaks for its members and fellow travelers. So the intent—solely to elect and reelect party members—is played off as a means to give voice, through the party, to its supporters.
But it only takes one election cycle to realize the seated representative does not echo the voice of the electors. Instead of dealing with the mess of a myriad of views, the representative simplifies the matter and speaks for one (the representative and contributors, of course). So, while there is democracy, there is no representation.
Even assuming your representative could, and would, represent your interests, how could lines be drawn that give political voice to all? The answer: no such line can exist. District lines could be drawn that separate urban, suburban, and rural voters. But even those blocks are neither unified nor cohesive.
Yes, I am politically closer to my semi-rural neighbors than folks living inside or just outside the beltway that surrounds Columbus, Ohio. But those in my area do not share all of my views. Some are farmers, some are ranchers, and many just want to be left alone. No one could possibly craft an agenda that represents all.
My fantasy map would be one that connects all properties which displayed Ron Paul signs from years ago. And it would snake its way all the way down to Auburn and the Mises Institute, with branches reaching into various regions of the country. But this map will never be drawn. So the best I can hope for is a reduction in the size of government that diminishes my concerns over how I was districted.
But, until that time, I will continue to realize that a gerrymandered map is not a sign of a failing representative democracy; it is visual proof that a representative democracy cannot exist.
